Rises the Night Read online

  “Navy? My lady, that’s near’s bad as the black! Wouldn’t this lovely mulberry color be more fittin’? See how’t brings out that dusky sort o’ rose color in yer cheeks? And next to yer black curls? An’ it makes yer lashes look darker’n a boar’s-bristle brush.” She thrust the preferred gown in front of her mistress. “Well, that Mr. Pesaro cert’nly helped ye last summer, when ye were tryin’ to keep Lilith from gettin’ th’ special book she wanted. Maybe he’d decided he’d stayed too long here and needed to get home.”

  “Perhaps,” Victoria commented, unable to keep from wondering what it would be like the next time she saw Max. She felt that the animosity that had simmered beneath their politeness and forced proximity might have eased quite a bit after all that had occurred, even though she was still annoyed he’d left London so suddenly.

  After all, she’d seen the impressive Max brought under the control and thrall of Lilith, showing a weakness she never would have attributed to him…and he had seen Victoria learn how to fight like a Venator and grow from an average debutante into a fierce, brave vampire hunter.

  The gown of Verbena’s choice was fluttering down over Victoria’s shoulders before she realized the moment to stop it had passed.

  “Not the mulberry!” she exclaimed in vain. “’Tis too bright!”

  But the gown was on, and swiftly being buttoned up the back as Victoria looked at herself in the mirror. She did look well in the gown. Heavens, it had been more than a year since she’d been dressed so, and Verbena was right: it did bring out the faintest pink in her cheeks. She bit her lips, bottom, then top, and they plumped and reddened as though they’d been kissed.

  “Very nice, my lady,” Verbena told her, making a narrow braid from one long curl at the top of her crown. “Ye have nothing to feel guilty fer, now. You’ve mourned your husband fully and completely, and whilst ye’ll never stop loving him, ye must remember: you’re still here, and ye still have a life to live.” She finished the braid and wound it around the rest of Victoria’s hair, which was piled at the back of her head in a heavy mass of curls.

  “Yes, a life. And a duty.” Her green-brown eyes glittered above her flushed cheeks.

  Verbena’s blue eyes met her gaze again. “A duty you are well suited for.” She slipped the last pin into her hair and smiled with satisfaction. “But it don’t mean ye have to be a nun.”

  Victoria nodded at her reflection, then rose from the chair. “Time to go down to dinner, then. Perhaps I’ll have a bit of gaiety before duty beckons me back to London.”

  “I’m hoping you do, my lady. Ye deserve it.”

  Victoria left her room on the third floor and made her way down to the drawing room, where the rest of the guests would gather before going in to dinner. She’d arrived only two hours earlier, and thus had had a short visit with Gwendolyn, and then had repaired to her room to change for dinner.

  Now she walked into the large drawing room and found that several of the eleven who would be dining had already gathered. Three gentlemen stood near one side of the room, and appeared to be holding hostage a bottle of some golden liquid. One of them Victoria recognized as Gwendolyn’s father, Viscount Claythorne. He was speaking with Baron Frontworthy, Gwendolyn’s most ardent suitor.

  “Victoria! You look lovely.” Her friend rose and came to her side immediately. She was accompanied by an older, elegant woman. “May I make my aunt, Mrs. Manley, known to you, Lady Rockley.”

  Victoria curtsied and complimented the woman on her gown.

  “Good evening, Lady Rockley.”

  Victoria turned at George Starcasset’s voice. He bowed over her proffered hand, and she made a brief curtsy. “Good evening, Mr. Starcasset. I must thank you again for making me one of your party.”

  “Gwendolyn and I are so very pleased to have you with us.” He smiled and tucked her hand over his arm. “May I provide you with a sherry?”

  “Indeed, that would be lovely.” Victoria cast a smile over her shoulder at Gwendolyn, who appeared to be not at all surprised at her brother’s attentions. In fact, her friend’s twinkling eyes told her she was quite pleased with the situation.

  “The others shall be joining us shortly. Mr. Berkley and his sister Miss Berkley, you might perhaps know, along with Mr. Vandecourt. And our other guest,” Starcasset told her as he presented her with a tulip-shaped glass, “I am certain you will be quite pleased to meet. He is rather a celebrity.”

  “A celebrity?” Victoria sipped the sweet sherry, looking up at Gwendolyn’s brother with her head tilted gently to the side. How wonderful it felt to be thinking, not of vampires and stakes, not of losses and grief, but of the handsome gentleman who stood before her.

  “Indeed. Dr. John Polidori, the author.”

  Victoria blinked.

  No, apparently even here she could not get away from vampires.

  Mr. Starcasset took her expression for confusion, and explained, “He wrote the book The Vampyre. It was published in New Monthly under Lord Byron’s name, but just recently it became known that Polidori is the true author. Though it is said he based the vampire character of Lord Ruthven on Byron himself!”

  “Indeed,” Victoria murmured. It would be interesting to converse with Dr. Polidori. She wondered if he’d ever met a vampire. Quite unlikely, for he wouldn’t be writing romantic novels about it if he had.

  “Dr. Polidori and Mr. Vioget arrived only some minutes ago, and they hastened to change for dinner. We will wait for their arrival before going in to supper. Lady Rockley, is something the matter?”

  “Dr. Polidori is not traveling alone?” Victoria managed to make her voice casual, but what should have been a small sip of sherry turned into a rather large gulp and set her to suppressing a rough cough.

  “He travels with his friend Mr. Sebastian Vioget, whom he met, I believe, while lately in Italy with Byron.”

  “Italy? I see.” So it was Sebastian, and he was here. Alive. With the author of a book about vampires. How very unexpected.

  Victoria finished her sherry. The last time she’d seen Sebastian, she’d left him in his carriage after a most intimate interlude—which ended quite abruptly as he delivered her to a group of vampires out for her blood.

  He’d had her half-undressed in that carriage, and lazy with desire, as she recalled, her face warming at the intimate memories. He’d been delighted to learn she’d broken her engagement with Phillip, and had attempted to take full advantage of her newly unbetrothed status…until she sensed the presence of vampires.

  Since they had been riding in his carriage, under his direction, and Victoria hadn’t seen any vampires for weeks until these three suddenly appeared, surrounding their vehicle, she couldn’t help but suspect Sebastian’s hand in the matter. His way of denying had been to protest that he had saved her life before, why would he endanger her at that moment…? But Victoria hadn’t fully believed him.

  “He seems a very amiable gentleman, if a bit shy,” commented Starcasset, hovering rather close to Victoria in a gentle waft of balsam.

  “Mr. Vioget? Shy?”

  “I meant, rather, Dr. Polidori, although Mr. Vioget is also very pleasant. Ah, and here they are now.”

  Starcasset moved toward the door, but Victoria impudently remained across the room and with her back to it, pretending to be admiring an arrangement of tall purple lupine. She would find out soon enough if Sebastian was as surprised by her presence as she was by his.

  Behind her, the other guests were being introduced to Dr. Polidori and Monsieur Vioget, as Sebastian identified himself. At the sound of his familiar voice and its subtle accent, Victoria felt an uncomfortable prickle.

  Then, at last… “And Dr. Polidori, and M. Vioget, may I introduce to you my sister’s particular friend, Victoria de Lacy, Marchioness of Rockley.”

  Victoria turned to face the three men. “It is a pleasure to meet a man of such renown, Dr. Polidori. Your work has made quite a reputation for you,” she said, offering her hand to the man with
messy dark hair. A quick skim of her attention over Sebastian told her that she had the advantage of him. She had never seen such a look of discomposure on his handsome face. It would be comical if she weren’t as taken aback as he.

  “Madam, I am very well pleased to make your acquaintance. And thank you for your kind words.” Polidori bowed and released her hand, then turned to take a glass of brandy from the viscount as he remarked on his trip from London.

  “M. Vioget,” Victoria said, and offered her hand to Sebastian. Obviously recovered, he took it gallantly, closing his fingers over her gloved ones and raising them to his lips.

  He’d not changed in the last year: still impeccably clothed in the highest of fashion, with tawny hair curling over the high collar of his shirt and the same superficially charming smile that always seemed to have a hidden message behind it.

  “May I express my condolences, Lady Rockley,” he said as he raised his face from her glove. He let her fingers slip through his as she returned her hand to her side, looking at her intently. “I was terribly sorry to hear of your loss.”

  Considering the fact that he’d been quick to take advantage when he’d learned she broke her engagement with Phillip, Victoria found that highly unlikely. But there was that hint of abashment in his face…perhaps he was feeling contrite over the events that had left The Silver Chalice in flames, and Phillip and Max ultimately in the hands of Lilith. Although whether it was the loss of his business or the cause of Phillip’s death that he regretted, she was not certain.

  “I was terribly sorry to experience it,” she replied coolly, and turned back to Gwendolyn’s brother with a warm smile. “Who is that lovely woman in the painting over the mantel, Mr. Starcasset?”

  Happy to oblige her interest, Starcasset removed her from the presence of his guests and strolled with her to the portrait in question.

  Victoria took care to keep him in conversation for the next several minutes, while they waited for the last members of their party to join them. As she continued to ask questions regarding this painting and that vase and the statue on the table thither, she kept the edge of her attention focused on Sebastian.

  He watched her without appearing to do so, covertly scanning her whenever he turned to speak to someone, letting his eyes wander in her direction whenever he lifted his glass to drink. Instead of the chill over the back of her neck she felt when a vampire was watching, Victoria felt Sebastian’s attention as a never-ending prickle between her shoulder blades. It was accompanied by an unfamiliar squirming in her stomach. She and Sebastian had unfinished business to attend to.

  When it was time to walk into the dining room, Mr. Starcasset remained at her side and led Victoria to a seat between himself and Dr. Polidori. Sebastian was placed at the other side of the table, near the opposite end, between Miss Berkley and Gwendolyn.

  “I have had the pleasure of reading your work, Dr. Polidori,” Victoria offered, removing her gloves and folding them neatly in her lap. It was true—she’d read The Vampyre even before becoming aware of her Venator calling. “It’s very unique, as most other stories about vampires portray them as mere beastly creatures of low class, while your gracious and charming Lord Ruthven could easily find himself a place in the ton. How did you ever come to this different understanding of these creatures?”

  “Indeed, it was rather Byron’s fault. I was visiting him along with Shelley and his wife in Switzerland, and she thought up the game that each of us should write a story about a supernatural or monstrous creature. Byron dabbled with the story for a bit, then moved on to something else, and as the idea piqued my interest, I decided to pursue it.” Polidori’s reply was glib, as though he’d given it many times. His hair was an explosion of wild black curls that could not, no matter the amount of pomade, be tamed. They framed his round, youthful face and curled in every direction. Yet, despite his easy carriage and words, a wariness limned his eyes, as though something worried at him.

  “You wrote so convincingly, Dr. Polidori. Do you believe vampires exist? That they actually can move among us in Society? Could any one of the peers really be a vampire?” Mrs. Manley, Gwendolyn’s aunt, who sat across from him, appeared quite taken with the idea that a vampire might be sitting at the very table. “There were those rumors about the Earl of Corvindale…”

  Victoria refused to exchange glances with Sebastian, although he tried to catch her eye. She hoped quite heartily Mrs. Manley never came face-to-face with a vampire, in Society or no. “One could only suspect members of the peerage who do not show their faces during the day,” Victoria commented with a smile. “According to Dr. Polidori, the vampires do not come out in the sunlight. But if they did, would they die a horrible death…or merely be burned?”

  “I believe they would suffer terrible burns, but they would be unlikely to die unless overexposed.”

  “And what of flame?” Victoria asked, remembering last summer, when she and Max had been trapped with vampires in a burning building. “Would that also burn them?”

  Polidori brushed crumbs from the corner of his mouth. “Flames from a fire do not harm a vampire, at least”—he gave a gentle laugh— “in my imagination.”

  And in reality as well. Victoria thought it quite interesting Polidori seemed to have an accurate knowledge of the bloodthirsty creatures.

  “Dr. Polidori is lately returned from Italy.” Sebastian’s comment was directed to Miss Berkley.

  “Italy? I have never been, but I have heard that Rome and Venice are lovely cities. Where in Italy did you travel?” asked Gwendolyn.

  “I spent much of my time in Venice with Byron, until several months ago, when we parted ways. He felt he did not need the personal services of a physician any longer,” Polidori added with a self-deprecating smile. “I traveled throughout the country and then returned to England near the beginning of the year.”

  Victoria’s attention was drawn from the physician-turned-author to Mr. Starcasset, when he leaned closer and said, “I shall promise you, Lady Rockley, that the gentlemen will not leave you ladies long alone in the parlor after dinner. I am hoping you might partner me in a game of whist this evening, as my sister claims you are a devilish good player!”

  “Does she indeed?” Victoria replied, trying to recall if she had ever played whist with Gwendolyn. She didn’t believe she had, so now she wondered whether Mr. Starcasset had her confused with some other lady, or whether he was merely attempting to make an attachment to her. Smothering a smile, she turned back to him with a demure look and said, “I should be quite pleased to be your partner in whist, if you will agree to sing when Gwendolyn sits at the pianoforte. She has spoken quite often of your pleasing voice!”

  He smiled down at her, his teeth wide and white, and his eyes warm. “I think I must call you on that exaggeration, madam, as Gwendolyn scarcely allows any of her siblings to sing whilst she plays…but I will happily make the attempt, if all for your hand at cards.”

  Indeed, Starcasset made well on his promise, ushering the men from their cigars and brandy back into the parlor with the ladies less than thirty minutes after they had separated following the end of the meal. A rousing game of whist ensued, with he and Victoria partners, playing across from Miss Berkley and Mr. Vandecourt.

  Victoria, who was not known for her excellence at cards despite Starcasset’s claims to the contrary, managed to keep from embarrassing herself…even when Sebastian happened to stroll along behind her and peer over her shoulder as though to ascertain whether her mediocre playing was due to lack of good cards or skill.

  It was also possible he was using the opportunity to look down the bodice of her gown, as he stood behind her for quite a long enough time. But since he already was acquainted with exactly what it covered, she rather doubted he would need to stare quite so long.

  Victoria felt her face warm at the memory that this man behind her—who, by all outward appearance, was a stranger to her—had actually had his long-fingered hands on her bare skin. Intimately on her b
are skin.

  And she had allowed it.

  “I believe I am quite finished with whist,” she said calmly, as the last hand of the second game ended and she stood from her seat. “Perhaps Gwendolyn and her brother will entertain us at the pianoforte.”

  The Starcasset siblings obliged her request, and their lovely duets soon ebbed into a more rousing set of country songs. The others joined in with the singing, and imbibed more brandy and sherry, and soon Gwendolyn’s fair cheeks were flushed, Miss Berkley was fluttering her eyelashes quite noticeably at Sebastian, and Victoria was feeling cheerier than she had for months.

  But when she saw the way Mr. Vandecourt hovered near Gwendolyn, solicitously assisting her to rearrange the pillow on which she sat, and the way his expression softened when he looked at her, Victoria felt a wave of loneliness. It had been that way with Phillip. So kind, so thoughtful, so handsome.

  She had lost him so very quickly.

  And even once she moved beyond this grief that reared up when she least expected it, grabbing her by the throat when she thought she’d kept it at bay, she would never be able to think about finding a husband or having children. She’d never be able to be like Gwendolyn: happy to be in love, planning a family life, looking forward to the next Season.

  Thus was the life she’d chosen, and Victoria was not bitter about it. She’d done it for the right reasons, and the freedoms she received, the things she learned, the ability to rely upon and protect herself were compensation enough.

  But there were times like now, seeing her happy friend, that she realized how deep the sacrifice had been.

  “Lady Rockley, is something the matter?” asked George Starcasset, who had stepped away from the pianoforte to move to her side. “May I offer you a breath of air on the patio? You look a bit warm.”